There was just enough wind to provide steerage way and the Indiamen glided gracefully past the battlements of Fort William and the seething slums and warehouses of Calcutta. Fortunately the breeze was from the other shore and so those on board were spared the stench that had greeted them when they had arrived in Calcutta at the start of the year. Arthur was standing at the stern of his transport, arms folded as he stared at the fort, still furious with Sir John for taking away his command. After all the hard work he had done to make sure that the expedition stood every chance of success, another man had stepped in to reap all the credit. It stuck in his throat like a stone, yet he knew he must not reveal his frustration and anger, and must do his utmost to help General St Leger win his victory. Footsteps approached from behind and a moment later Captain Fitzroy was beside him, leaning on the stern rail. ‘Action at last, sir. I can hardly wait to reach Manila.’ ‘We should be there soon enough, Fitzroy,’ Arthur replied quietly.
